


The Climb Back Up

by CumberRachel



Series: Recovery is like falling, only backwards [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, Clint Is a Good Bro, Depression, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Brainwashing, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Steve Needs a Hug, Tony Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CumberRachel/pseuds/CumberRachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky barns is safe in Stark tower. He is hurt and without an arm but he is safe. Steve is also in Stark tower. At the opposite end with his new family, currently unaware Bucky is even there. He has to fight his own demons before trying to fight other peoples. He also has to hose between his long lost friendship to Bucky and his new found romance with Tony. Only things get a little more confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Mountain Is Always The Hardest

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so its been well over a year since adding to this, for that I'm sorry. I had many personal issues and kinda lost interest in the plot before picking it up again. From now, the fic will be in chapters as it wont be so split over a long period of time, it's all relatively as it happens now. I have a timeline set up. I hoe you enjoy it, as ever thanks to my wonderful beta who I can't tag because I don't know how..... (StarSpangledBucky go look her up shes awesome!)

Ice, there was only ice, he couldn't go back in the ice! _Please no, not the ice!_

Freezing and wet, droplets dripping from his filthy knotted hair onto his cold skin. Wait. _Wet?_ The cryo-tube was _never_ wet.

" _Aaaggghhh!_ "

The assassin jerked into consciousness, grabbing at the chain that held his arm up. His chest rose and fell in hurried breaths, the chain rattling as he tried to keep his balance and get some idea of where he was.

"Evening,” aman spoke from in front of him, a man he'd only just noticed.

_Out of practice_ his brain supplied. He had strong arms, short dirty blonde hair, steely eyes boring into him, glaring in obvious hatred, and...holding a bucket. At least he knew where the water came from. His shirt had no sleeves and he had something strapped to his back that the soldier couldn’t exactly see properly at that moment. He looked comfortable with it so the soldier assumed he wore it often.

A shorter woman stood behind him to the side, shoulder length curly red hair, arms folded, clearly strong and powerful despite her size. She was also glaring, but it was softer, her eyes held something else. _Concern? Guilt? Did he know her?_ The soldier narrowed his eyes and sifted through his, somewhat limited, memories.

He could remember very little of young Bucky, with bright blue, shining eyes too big for his head, soft brown hair that was just too long and tickled his nose when it fell in front of his eyes, the brightest smile in Brooklyn, or so he'd been told by his mother. He had more memories of the soldier, Sergeant James Barnes; cap tilted to one side, lucky with the dame's, glimpses of a skinny best friend he couldn't protect from across the pond. Then dead Bucky, at least that's how he'd wanted to be lying in the freezing lab, syringes had never been his favourite. He was glad he couldn’t remember the fall just yet, but he knew it happened. He read as much in the museum exhibit, every so often he thought he heard the _click-clack_ of a train on the tracks. Then the shivery sensation of lying in the soft snow. The last softness he could remember before seeing the Captain's eyes.

Turning his attention away from the two strangers and looking down at himself, he still had the jeans he’d stolen months back but his chest was bare, revealing all his ugly scars and malnourished body. He looked up at his flesh arm and then back down to his left shoulder, struggling to remember why his arm was off but there was still metal on him. However, his stump had been wrapped in huge bandages and then Bucky remembered what he’d done. The pain had been too much to bare so he’d torn his prosthetic right off.

"You looking for this?" bucket man jeered, waving the what could be called scrap metal, arm in his general direction. "You pulled it off yourself. We have a specialist who's gonna’ take a look at it. You are gonna’ stay here and we will ask you questions, how's that sounding?" he continued, tone casual and light-hearted yet still sinister, managing to both irritate and unnerve Bucky.

Deciding it was best to stay quiet, and not piss the guy off any more than he clearly already had, Bucky simply nodded. The smaller woman frowned at bucket man and then at Bucky, walking forwards until she was about an arm's-reach away. The guy's glare became harder, more threatening. It was obvious that there was something between them.

Her steps had been deliberate yet delicate, almost like a dancer's’ might be, every move was planned and perfected but it held grace and control. Her penetrating gaze never left the assassins form, analysing every inch, taking in all the bruising and scars (old and new), the dirt, the way his ribs stuck out like a cliff over a sunken stomach, even the matted clumps of filth in his tangled hair. His beard itched something fierce, he was in dire need of a shower, a shave and some clean clothes but he had no idea what the intentions were of the people before him.

"James, we're gonna get you cleaned up okay? You won't be alone but you'll be able to shower and we'll give you clean clothes and something to eat and drink. Even though you're in chains we don't actually think you're a threat-"

Bucket man scoffed at this, turning and booting the bucket to the other end of a car park. At least that's what it looked like. The small woman simply ignored him and continued her speech.

"You're in the basement of Stark Tower. That's Clint, he doesn't like that you put Steve in hospital, then ran from him. Don't worry though, he'll get over it..."

She turned to give Clint a look that could kill, he simply nodded and stalked over to fetch the bucket, grumbling about women and power and being treated like a child or something.

"James, you apparently don't seem to remember me, that's alright, but I'm gonna try and jog your memory. My name is Natasha Romanov, you know me as Natalia Romanova. We worked together for the KGB, not by choice. My code name was, still is, 'Black Widow'. Yours was 'The Winter Soldier'. You don't need to be afraid anymore James,”

Her words had the desired effect on Bucky, his head tilted as new images flashed before his eyes, a training room, accommodation that was more like a prison cell, working in the field, the frozen wastelands of Russia that never affected him. Hand to hand combat with the petite redhead and losing for the first time.

" _Natalia_?" he rasped, knowing she could see the recognition in his eyes.

It was small accomplishment but he was proud regardless. There were times when not being able to remember frustrated him so much. It was as though his mind was a corridor full of rooms, each one holding a memory, some good, some bad. He was slowly opening doors, finding some already unlocked, and in them finding the keys to other doors that he then had to hunt for. Some doors had glass windows where he could see hints of the history inside, others were solid steel with reinforced locks and Bucky could only imagine what was trapped inside. It was either so horrific that his own mind had doubled the efforts to keep it hidden or it was so wonderful that Hydra had done all that they could to prevent him from remembering.

"That's right James... _Natalia_. We're going to go and find our resident doctor so he can check your arm, it has to be causing you pain,”

The words were spoken in a soft, velvety voice, one Bucky had never been able to refuse. Now that he thought about it he realised that the stump did feel uncomfortable. The pain of removing the metal one subsided as soon as he blacked out and the freezing temperatures had numbed it enough so that he couldn’t feel anything.

However, now he was regaining sensation, the assassin began to feel discomfort, mainly around the shoulder area. Here his skin was exposed and it was mostly red and inflamed, swelling bigger than the metal plates still adorning his shoulder would allow. It made him fearful for the rest of the limb. Absently he wondered if they'd fully amputate, up to the shoulder this time, not that he'd care, not really, it would probably be less pain and hassle, although probably a reduced range of movement.

His head snapped up at the sound of a door closing, he was now _alone_. His skills had clearly diminished as he hadn't heard anything, too preoccupied with his own plight. He was also a little confused as they said he wouldn’t be alone, but that could just include when he’s out of chains. Bucky looked up again and tugged, testing the strength, when it didn’t immediately give, he tugged harder, his muscles straining and a small grunt of effort escaping him. _Still nothing_. He stopped trying after that, while he couldn’t remember everything he knew that the asset once trusted Natalia and still could. Now that he was alone, though, he could take in his surroundings and establish the danger levels and possible risk to his safety.

Stark Tower. One thing he knew, he'd observed the place for a good week or so, he knew the area well. No apparent outside threats that he could remember. He knew Stark's security was tight, he'd seen a simple business man get thrown out, shortly followed by his Swiss Army knife...

So, the room he was in. There was what looked like an incline out of the basement. There were twenty cars of various design, worth and condition with room for approximately five more. Originally, Bucky had assumed car park but given twelve of the number plates held some variations of the name _'STARK'_ on them he could only assume it wasn't publicly used. Two vans, five sports cars, two pick-up trucks, three vintage cars parked away from the others, and the rest were just average business cars. _Oh, and there's that limo in the corner_. Bucky could vaguely make out a motorbike in the reflection of the elevator doors across from him. He smiled to himself softly, it's exactly the kind Steve would ride, _does_ ride, apparently. At least that's what he could assume.

Bucky looked back up at the chain around his wrist; it was silver and shiny, not rusty iron like he expected. The inside of the cuff was softly lined and padded, proving to the assassin inside that it was more for caution than punishment. He hadn't noticed the two similar chains hugging his ankles. He has enough chain length to allow him to move a few metres in each direction but not to reach anything he could use to escape…he liked that trust.

To his left was the closest wall, furthest from the drivers exit, closest to the entrance, it was about ten metres away. The wall had a tap jutting out with a drain beneath it, there were a few sponges in a basket to the right and a random set of tools to the left. He could even see a hose poking out behind a plank of wood leant against the wall, he hoped to god they didn't use it on him. He had a brief few seconds where his vision was clouded by the mask they used, the feeling of pressurised water knocking the air out of his lungs, the stones cutting into his flesh.

The rest of the place was like an average basement, albeit an oversized basement; minimal lighting, the smell of fuel and fumes, some tyre tracks littered the floor and the ceiling had the odd crack. But there was nothing obviously threatening that gave Bucky reason to be concerned.

He could even say he was grateful. Any longer and he wasn't sure he'd have survived. Still scavenging from bins and hiding out in alleys, Bucky hadn't been able to venture out into the streets. He was wrecked and constantly slipping between himself and the assassin, not to mention the fact he was clutching a metal limb at all times. If anyone saw him they would call the police in seconds and he wouldn't have a chance to run. His best bet was to wait it out as long as he could and when he couldn't he would surrender. Giving into that sleep of death where no dreams would come.

_The last thing he'd expected was to pass out behind a strip club and wake up in a basement._

* * *

_"You know, you'd have thought that finding out his best friend is still alive would make a man ecstatic..."_

Bucky blinked opening his bleary eyes, the scarce light piercing his cornea and stabbing his brain. The painful _thud thud thud_ of his head was almost as if someone was prodding him with something electrical in time to his heart, just for kicks.

_"But instead he locked himself on his floor and drew. I’m sure you're aware of how good an artist he is, being his best friend and all?"_

Bucky frowned and let his eyes adjust, finally focusing enough to figure out who the fuzzy form in front of him was.

"Stark?" he rasped, wondering what he was talking about.

If there wasn't a small rodent burrowing into his skull then he could probably find out. However, he wasn't graced with such a luxury and he still hasn't been given anything to drink.

"Yes, _Stark_! You don't even realise what you've done to Steve do you? You couldn't care less! No matter what he says, _you_ are always going to be the god damned Winter Soldier who failed his mission. I don't know how you survived falling from the train but I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you away from Steve. I won't let you hurt him again. Not while I'm still breathing,"

Stark’s words hurt worse than anything that Hydra had done. If what Stark was saying was true, then Bucky had let Stevie down again. And now he wasn't being given the opportunity to make it right.

Bucky saw Stark stalk over to him, a knife in his trembling hand. The assassin raised his chin, allowing the smaller man room to press the shining blade against his jugular. He wasn't sure if Stark knew what he was doing...but if he did then Bucky was thankful to be alive.

"Do it," he pleaded, knowing he could never be what he was, a hero, a friend, a brother. "I deserve it," he added, pressing his neck forward into the knife edge.

He couldn't decide if he was irritated or grateful when the cavalry arrived in the form of Natalia and Clint.

"Stark, what are you doing?" Natalia asked outright, not being careful.

Maybe she knew Stark better than he did. Bucky swallowed, keeping eye contact to show he wasn't afraid but being sure to remain as still and non-threatening as possible. Oddly, Stark’s manic eyes flicked down the knife, back to his face and down again. He then stumbled a few paces backward with it in his palm, promptly dropping it as though it had burnt him. Horrified, Stark back peddled and left the three alone. Bucky swallowed again, blinking rapidly in an attempt to understand what had happened, coming back to himself and realising what he'd just asked him to do...

Natalia approached slowly, a bottle of water and a boxed sandwich in her hands. Glancing behind her, Bucky could see that Clint had a wash kit, a towel and some clothes tucked under his arm. They both wore the same expression on their face, slightly confused, more concerned and looking a little accusatory towards Bucky.

_"Mr Barnes did not do anything to antagonize Mr Stark. Sir did not sleep last night and the arrival of the Winter Soldier appears to have...unnerved him,”_

Bucky startled as a disembodied voice echoed through the basement. He clung to the chain at his wrist for no reason other than to have something to hold.

"James, it's okay. That's JARVIS. He's Stark's artificial intelligence and he monitors the building and everyone in it. He can't hurt you," Natalia implored, she wasn't even phased by his reaction.

She simply took her time to explain. Bucky decided that he could trust the instincts of the asset inside him, so far everything she said had been true and in no way hostile towards him.

"I brought you water and some food, we can take you up to one of the guest floors and help you get cleaned up. Might make you feel a little better, more _yourself_ ,"

Natalia made it sound like he had a choice, which maybe he did but he wasn't about to decline the offer, that would be rude. Also, he might get the chance to apologise, he might bump into Steve and...

After that he didn't really know what. He's only ever gotten as far as seeing him, never moved past that and despite the opportunities he never had any idea what to do next. Natalia and Clint were patiently waiting for a response when he could be getting clean. The food and drink were added to Clint's load so Natalia could begin to remove the bindings when he nodded.

Bucky may have grown up in the forties and been in the war, but he hated feeling grimy, especially since becoming the assassin. As a sniper he hadn't got up close and personal with the Hydra agents he was shooting. The KGB turned him into a monster, one who was used to kill up close and from afar. It took weeks to get the taste of blood out the first time. With more memory wipes came less concern and the man behind the mask hibernated in order to save himself. Now he was woken, and all the awful sensations and feelings were at the forefront of his mind. He could taste his own blood and sick, smell the alcohol and rotting food left on his body from his stay in the alleys, he could just about see how awful his hair was. He'd come to like it long, once it was past the stage where there was nothing to be done with it but let it fall into his eyes and irritate him. He knew there were patches of dried blood all over, scabs and scars that took longer than usual to disappear. Bucky was going to need Natalia to help him clean properly, especially when he only had one arm.

They'd made it to the elevator with almost no issues, the chains were coded rather than key locked, clever...so it had taken less than a minute to get him out of them. Getting into the elevator had been more difficult as Bucky apparently had trouble walking, maybe it was because he felt lopsided and off balance, maybe he had been injured. _Who knows_. After falling to his knees twice, Clint disappeared around a corner and returned with a wheelchair. Reluctantly, Bucky all but fell into the chair, letting his legs relax. As her hands were free, Natalia was the one to push him into the elevator and get him settled, locking the wheels even though the journey would be the smoothest ride of his life.

Feeling a soft palm on his right shoulder, Bucky looked over to see Natalia holding out the bottle of water, pre-opened. He was unsure if he would be okay with it as he hadn't drunk for a few days but considering he had once been able to drink coffee he decided it would be okay.

"Thanks,” he murmured, his voice no better than before.

Bucky took the bottle and drained it within seconds, panting heavily once he'd done, crumpling the empty bottle in his palm.

"Thank you,” he said, sounding more human and less undead.

Handing back the bottle to Natalia's waiting hand he noticed the light indicating the floor number was moving a lot faster than he anticipated. Upon closer inspection he saw that the top 12 floors were residential:

_Penthouse_   
_Communal_   
_T. Stark_   
_B. Banner_   
_Thor (+ J. Foster)_   
_C. Barton/N. Romanov_   
_N. Romanov/C. Barton_   
_S. Rogers_   
_Guest (J. Rhodes, P. Potts, D. Lewis)_   
_Gym/Training Area/Pool_   
_Guest (Other)_   
_Guest (Other)_

Bucky pointed at the 8th floor down, wondering why the little backlight illuminating the name was down.

"Stevie," he whispered, pained and guilty.

A wave of nostalgia threatening to rip him away from reality. He refrained from pressing the button, instead reaching up and stroking the name with his thumb.

"Yeah, his floor is kinda shut down at the moment. No one allowed, not even him," Clint explained, his voice still icy cold but softer than it had been at their first meeting. "I like the nickname though," he added with a mischievous grin.

Bucky glared up at him with malice and only just managed not to growl at him. Only he was allowed to call him Stevie, no one else.

"Hey James-" the hand on his shoulder tightened and stopped him from getting closer to the other man. "Clint isn't going to be a prick and use the nickname if you don't want him to. We're good, we're going to try and keep ourselves out of chains right? You do this for us, let us help you then you won't go back in them. The second we think you're a threat we lock you up. Deal?"

Natalia's words were harsh but her voice was trusting, other than Steve, she was the only one who had history with him. While he couldn't remember everything, he must have done something right otherwise she wouldn't be helping. Bucky nodded once, relaxing back into the chair between them.

Once the elevator stopped and the doors breezed open, Bucky had become very nervous. He didn't know if he would encounter anyone, he didn't know the layout, it could be a trap. _Oh god they could be bringing him here to kill him!_

Instinctively, Bucky reached under the back of Natalia's jacket and pulled out the knife he somehow knew was hidden there. He hadn't seen her put it there, and it hadn't been visible at all. This was learned, muscle memory. Unfortunately, his confusion about the knife meant Clint was able to swiftly kick it out of his hand, it clattered on the dark wooden flooring and under a cabinet out of sight.

"What the hell Barnes? It's like you want to be in chains!" Clint cried, picking up his stack of dropped clothing and stalking off into a room, possibly the bedroom or bathroom.

Bucky just watched, astonished at his own actions. He hadn't been the soldier...he was still Bucky. Those actions were his choice, even if it was instinctual muscle memory.

" _James...?_ "

Natalia's voice startled him into reality.

"We are not going to hurt you. We want to help but the only way we can is if you let us,"

Again Bucky noticed how Natalia's speech was both powerful and calming. Even if he couldn't remember, he could understand why he was drawn to Natalia.

“The quicker you accept it the sooner you’ll get to see Steve,”

 


	2. Feel more like a human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hi, sorry... I am aware I said an update would come soon. This was sitting in my documents gathering dust and since I am an incapable human being I've only just got around to completing and sorting things out. So sorry in advance if this isn't up to scratch or poor in quality. I wanted to give you an update after having waited so long.

_“The sooner you’ll see Steve”_

_“The sooner you’ll see Steve”_

_“The sooner you’ll see Steve”_

 

Bucky didn’t need anything more than that before he was pushing himself up out of the chair. He stumbled to one side because of how off balance he was without the weight of his arm. But he was able to fix it easily enough. He carefully wandered out of the elevator and in the direction Clint had gone, having to hold one arm out and use the wall to lean on slightly.

The room he entered was a large simple bedroom with a connected bathroom. The room had two walls that were full length windows with a city scape of sky-scrapers and office blocks. The bed could comfortably fit three and looked like it had never been slept in. The carpet was soft under his bare toes and the colours were simple whites and greys. Nothing like Bucky was used to, even before the war. Luckily the lights were dim so they weren't too painful and offensive.

He looked around and saw the items Clint was holding placed on the desk, when he looked up he saw that Clint was sitting on one of the - Bucky didn't exactly know what it was... It was a tall structure with parts carved out in odd shapes and patterns. Whatever it was, it was an odd place to perch upon, especially with how it wobbled. 

"I like high places, Barnes. Means I get to watch everything." He declared, obviously talking offence at Bucky's inquisitive expression. 

"Come on James, bathroom's through here. You mind if I help you or do you want Clint?" Natalia asked, waiting by the door for Bucky to follow. He shook his head and hurried after her as quick as his uncoordinated balance would allow, ignoring the displease sound coming from Clint.

 

Natalia was already filling the large basin when he entered, he stood awkwardly on the white tiles looking around and not knowing what to do, waiting for an order. As with the bedroom, everything could fit at least 2 people and Bucky wandered if it was Starks idea of funny or if he just didn’t like small spaces.

The petite redhead turned and looked at him expectantly, gesturing to the deep bath. Frowning, Bucky went to step inside the slightly steaming water but Natalia placed her hand on his wrist, pulling him back with a slight shake of her head. What was she trying to tell him? What is it he needs to do?

He frowned at her and pulled his leg back, the bottom part of his jean soaked with warm water. 

"C'mon James... You know you don't bathe with clothes on." She chastised kindly, a very unsubtle hint for Bucky, clearly sensing his confusion. The assassin nodded and began to tug the buttons of his jeans undone, he began to push them down and ended up kicking them off, having to hold onto the sink to make sure he didn’t fall over. When he was done with that he shrugged out of his boxers with little thought about being naked around a woman and then stepped slowly into the bath.

 

He currently had three different chains of thought in his head, each equally as confusing as the other. On the one hand, he had young Bucky Barns telling him that it wasn’t polite to be naked in front of a dame in such a way, especially one he wasn’t romantically involved with. Then somewhere down the line he had flickers of nights spent together with the Widow, of soft supple limbs coming together with his larger, more solid ones, of heated passion that was made better by the fact that it was forbidden. So, had they been romantically involved? Was this normal for them? The overruling thought, however, was of the cold asset, the trigger of a gun, the shell of a man who had no concept of modesty because he had no need of it.

“James…?” Natalia brought him out of his head and back to reality, “We also don’t stand in a bath. That’s what showers are for. Would you prefer a shower?” She asked kindly, giving him the options he was never allowed before. Cleaning wasn’t something to be enjoyed, cold water and scrubbing was all he was allowed. 

“James, look at me.” Bucky did as he was ordered and realised he was trembling, and not breathing. “You are going to sit in this bath and let me wash you. Do you understand?” She asked. Her words weren’t harsh, not by any means, but they were stern and Bucky found himself instantly calming.

“Yes.” He said simply, carefully lowering himself down into the hot water and blocking out the pain of any wounds yet to be healed. When he sat upright, the water only came up to his waist. Probably deliberately done so the bandaging on his arm wouldn’t get wet. 

Bucky sat patiently and waited for Natalia to fetch a washcloth and some bottles. He straightened his legs out in front of him and watched as the water around them became a little murky. Seeing the grime leave his body so easily made him feel lighter, the knowledge that he would be clean again was almost like a physical weight off his shoulders. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be clean, and he wasn’t even half way there yet.

Natalia came to sit behind him. Not joining him in the water but sitting on the ledge so she could easily reach him. “James, I’m going to use the shower head to wash what isn’t submerged, I will avoid your left shoulder. Does that sound okay?” She asked, giving him the freedom to choose once again. He nodded his affirmative and heard the tap turn on, quickly changing to a spray that was not yet angled towards him. But he could feel the tiny spray of cool water and realised she was waiting for it to warm. He could hardly remember a time of having warm water to clean with even before the war.

Eventually, he felt the water hit his upper back. Only it wasn’t hitting, it was simply falling over his good shoulder with very little pressure. This was so foreign to Bucky. All he could do was sit still while the pleasant water washed away the initial dirt, blood and sweat. It took a few minutes before he began to relax, but he soon tensed up again when the washcloth replaced the water against his back. He couldn’t tell what exactly, but the cloth had something wet on it, wet and slick.

“I’m using shower gel, James. It’s a modern soap, it lathers quicker, smells nicer too” Natalia told him. He hadn’t even asked but she seemed to sense his question regardless. He started to relax again after that, letting Natalia’s nimble fingers work at his muscles and wash away the tension. She moved most of the way down his back and even past the water line.

Bucky’s head had fallen forwards contently, a slight pleased shiver running down his spine as Natalia worked. Was this what it felt like to bathe normally? He couldn’t remember having this before he enlisted.

“I’m going to wash your arm now.” She eventually informed him, moving on the edge of the tub to get better access. It was quicker here, she wasn’t as careful because she could see his face and would be able to tell if he was hurt or scared. he moved where she wanted him and felt more relaxed and less like the assassin the cleaner he became.

“Does anywhere hurt?” She questioned, asking him to turn and face her so she could work on his chest. He shook his head slowly. A lot did hurt but if he admitted it then it would have to be fixed. And that usually meant more pain. Truthfully, his arm was starting to get a bit sore beneath the bandaging. He could remember it bleeding before he passed out but after that it was a bit of a blur.

Before moving to a new area, Natalia would warn him, so he knew where the next touch would be coming from. She kept asking him if he hurt, also telling him he was allowed to admit it if it did. He wouldn’t dare. She also made the odd comment about his size. Having not been able to eat a lot, he'd lost a lot of weight and muscle, he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the way in to the bathroom; even when he was so poor he could hardly feed Steve, let alone himself, he hadn't been this underweight.

Each rib stuck out, skin taught in between. His stomach was a hollow pit and his hips were prominent. As were his shoulders and spine, each vertebra jutting out like a miniature mountain range. Having been kept in the ice and the dark for so long meant Bucky's skin was almost grey in colour, apart from the pink patches of past punishments, scarring that had not completely healed the way Steve's would. His serum was a knockoff version, good enough to do the job but it lacked some of the benefits. 

"Seriously James, did you eat at all?" Natalia pressed, gently tipping his head back and using the shower attachment to wet his tangled hair. Her hands were strong but managed not to hurt him as she got the knots and clotted blood out, not pulling too hard and making sure to keep his face dry.

"I tried..." He mumbled in response, curling slightly tighter into himself. "Most of the time it just came back up again..." He added sadly, his body feeling the energy drain, crying out for sustenance for the first time in a long time. 

"Bruce should be able to help you out with that. Will you let us hook you up to an IV until you have more energy?" She asked, tenderly running her fingers through the last of the knots before shampooing it. Bucky had no idea who ‘Bruce’ was but he nodded anyway, knowing he had little other choice. 

"I'm okay with coffee..." He mused, remembering the times when he'd watched Steve running from the little cafe, sipping on steaming black coffee. 

"You would be..." Natalia chuckled, bringing the shower head back up and washing the suds out. There was clearly a big history he was missing between himself and the Widow.   


"Okay, we’re almost done. I’m gonna need you to get out so I can drain the water and then I’ll re-fill it and let you clean your privates. And then I’d like to shave you. You can if you want but it might be hard with one arm" She inquired, helping Bucky stand and climb onto the mat. The filthy water drained quickly and Natalia washed down the bath before starting to fill it again, helping Bucky back in and handing him the washcloth.

“There’s only so much I’m willing to do, Barnes. And I ain’t cleaning your balls.” She told him when he looked at her expectantly. He swallowed and looked down, it had been a long time since he’d gone near that area with anything other than underwear and the young Bucky inside him started to feel a bit self-conscious.

“Oh for god’s sake, it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before” Natalia huffed, turning her back and crossing her arms. “Hurry up.” She added for good measure.

Bucky decided to do as he was told and quickly cleaned himself up. As he did, Natalia went to the cabinet and pulled something out that Bucky currently couldn’t see. Once he was done, he placed the cloth on the side of the tub and waited patiently for his next instruction.

“I need you to come close to the edge of the tub, make sure you face is not over the water.” Natalia instructed softly. Bucky did so and tried to figure out what was in her hands. She had plugged it in to an output in the wall and placed a towel over the mat. When she pressed a button on the device it whirred to life and sounded as though it was vibrating. James shot back instantly, hitting his head on the wall and making water slosh around.

“Whoa, hey. James, I’m sorry.” She turned the device off and it ceased its buzzing. “I should have explained. This is an electric razor. It won’t hurt you, look.” She lifted her arm and turned the device – razor – on again. She held it to her arm and moved it over her flesh, leaving a patch of hairless pale skin behind. He moved forward a little to get a closer look and watched as she did it again. “See? Nothing bad will happen, I just want to get rid of your beard.” She explained.

Bucky frowned for a moment and then nodded, moving forward in the bath again so his head was over the edge. Natalia quickly got to work, tilting his head this way and that to get the right angles as she shaved off his mess of a beard. He saw it fall to the white towel and felt cleaner the more that came off.

When she was done, Natalia deposited the razor on the counter and then wrapped the hair in the towel, setting it down in the sink and then helping Bucky up and out of the bath. She wrapped a towel around his waist and then another around his hair so it didn’t drip everywhere.

 

Once back in the bedroom, Bucky could feel the tug of exhaustion competing with the pain growing in what was left of his arm. Clint was no longer in the room so that just left Natalia to help dress him in the clothes that he’d left. He dabbed himself dry with the towel whilst sat on the bed, pulling up the thin sweats Natalia handed him and then allowing her to guide his arm through the sleeve of the dark tank top and over his head.

Bucky sat himself down on the edge of the bed. He was exhausted. Exhausted of running, exhausted of the constant memories forcing themselves on him without warning. Exhausted of not being able to sleep and not being able to eat. He was exhausted of being exhausted.   

“You should get some rest now, James.” Natalia said, pulling the blankets back as far as Bucky sat and then urging him to stand so she could pull them back further.

“Can’t…” Bucky said, his voice low and pained.

“What do you mean, ‘can’t’?” Natalia asked, guiding him to sit back down and lay on the bed. At that point, Clint returned with 4 small bottles filled with a clear liquid and four wrappers with what Bucky suspected were syringes in them.

"Bruce said this would help, it’s a high enough dosage to knock Cap out for a couple hours do it will definitely work on him. Might give him a few hours of solid sleep" Clint explained. Bucky mentally went over the pros and cons of having the drugs. He didn’t want any more drugs; he’d been pumped full of drugs for 70 years. He didn't think he could deal with anymore. 

But on the other hand, Clint said they’d knock him out. He could have a few hours of deep completely dreamless sleep. That alone was enough to make him want it but Clint had also said that Steve had taken them. He assumed that’s who ‘cap’ was at least. And if Steve had taken them then it _must_ be safe for him.

"Oh great, thank you." Natalia said with meaning, taking the vials and syringes from him and setting them down on the nightstand. "Would you like these, James?” She asked carefully.

Bucky nodded once, sitting up and crossing his arm over his body so Natalia could reach.

“Before you do” Clint started, pulling out a bottle of water from the pocket behind him and handing it over.  “You'll want to drink this first, I had one hell'ov'a headache when I came ‘round from that stuff. And I had a quarter the dosage." He informed, his voice now gentler, less cold and calculating. 

Bucky took the water graciously, noting how it wasn't a screw top. He could just open it with his teeth and drink. He downed it in two goes, panting heavily and feeling very glad that it was sitting right in his stomach. He handed the bottle to Clint's waiting hand before laying back fully against the sheets.

Whilst he had been drinking, Natalia had sorted the drugs, waiting patiently for him to finish the drink and hold out his arm again. She quickly applied a tourniquet on his lower bicep and found a vein in his elbow. She pressed the first syringe into his flesh, pushing the sedative into his system. He felt the effects in seconds. It stung slightly as the fluid went in but that was water off a duck’s back to the asset. As it flooded around his body with each heartbeat he felt a drowsiness take over. He couldn’t feel the next three doses, his limbs heavy and weak and numb. His eyelids drooped and he was swaying a little, only held up by Natalia’s hold on his arm. When she was done, she removed the tourniquet, gently lowered him to the pillows and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders.

The last thing he heard before fully dropping off was Natalia telling him “I’ll be here when you wake, James.”

 


End file.
